


Betting Men

by anemptymargin



Category: Actor RPF
Genre: Bets, Cooking, M/M, Pictures, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-31
Updated: 2013-05-31
Packaged: 2017-12-13 13:00:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/824576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anemptymargin/pseuds/anemptymargin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bradley makes a bet he can’t possibly win, but the payoff’s not so bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Betting Men

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [GypsyJr (HippieGeekGirl)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HippieGeekGirl/pseuds/GypsyJr) in the [RoundOne](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/RoundOne) collection. 



> Written for Over 40 Fest. I couldn’t get the mental image out of my head after catching the Hangover 2 premier shots. They’re just too pretty together not to write.

Admittedly, it was a sucker bet and Robert knew it – there was no way in hell the kid’s movie was going to even come close to out-grossing Iron Man 3, no matter how they trimmed exactly what counted when calculating the totals. The first may have struck comedy magic, but the second… well… it was the kind of thing that could tank a career if it weren’t for the cast’s chemistry and a still somewhat effective formula. To say Hangover 3 needed a hell of a hat trick to compete with every other major film coming out for the summer run was being generous – it needed a fucking miracle. Still, Bradley’s enthusiasm for his own pictures was infectious and he couldn’t help making the friendly wager over sparkling water with lime.

 

“Tell you what,” Bradley smirked over a half-eaten plate of risotto, still chewing a generous bite. “I’ll bet you anything… we’ll beat your little superhero adventure piece on our opening night.”

 

Robert smirked, wiping his mouth. “You really want to put your boys against Iron Man? Fine, which opening are we talking?”

 

“LA. It’s a good movie, man. I mean it… everyone should see it.”

 

“Is there a movie you’ve been in that you’re not a hopeless fanboy of?”

 

A slight flush colored Bradley’s ears and he looked down into his plate, shoving the back of his fork across a piece of lettuce. “Yeah… there’s a few my agent would rather we never speak of again. But I know what I’m talking about here, it’s a great franchise.”

 

Robert rolled his eyes, mostly affectionately, and muttered; “Yeah, well… don’t forget you’re not the only who’s done a picture with Todd Phillips and Zach Galifianakis.”

 

“But I’m the one who ended up with three pictures out of it.” He grinned wide, blue eyes taking on a mocking shine.

 

“All right, Coop… you’re on. But we’ll make this personal – I want you to do something for me.”

 

He laughed, somewhat sheepishly, and managed; “Do for you? How about a day as your personal chef, I’m uh… I’m a pretty good cook.”

 

“Apron and everything?”

 

“Sure,” he shrugged, brushing a hand through his hair. “Why not?”

 

“Acceptable. And if you win… which I highly doubt…”

 

“A day as my trainer – I want you to teach me some moves.”

 

Robert’s lips curled into an eye-wrinkling smile and he pushed a pair of lightly tinted sunglasses up the bridge of his nose; “Moves?”

 

“Yeah, moves. Like Sherlock Holmes.”

 

He laughed, shaking his head. “Sure… yeah, I’ll show you some moves.”

 

***

 

As predicted, a few months later Bradley was in the kitchen of a villa that was impressive even by his standards on a rare day of downtime. A bet was a bet and he wasn’t about to welch on it, even if the turnout and reviews were a little depressing. He was making up for his ‘day’ only compromising of a dinner by pulling out all the stops – full courses of his own favorites. He was alone after security let him in with bags of groceries in tow and soon the kitchen was hot and fragrant.

 

Stripped down to his apron and briefs, his suit carefully hung over a stool to avoid the mess as much as to put him into his comfort zone, he was lost in the joy of having an excellent kitchen to work in despite his only company being Metallica’s black album spurring him on. At least until he heard a small, amused laugh as he focused his attention on drizzling olive oil over stuffed mushrooms.

 

“Jesus…” he gasped, startled when he turned to see Robert perched on a stool beside his suit watching with a look of mild-amusement. “You scared the shit out of me.” He let out a nervous laugh, skin flushing even warmer than the steam had left it.

 

“Don’t mind me,” Robert shook his head, waving a dismissive hand. “Just enjoying the floor show.”

 

Turning his back on him to slide the mushrooms under the broiler, Bradley let out another awkward laugh. “Yeah, well… I guess I get really into it.”

 

“I could have told you that fifteen minutes ago when you were singing to the pesto.”

                                                                           

“Little known fact, sauces love Metallica.”

 

The nervous laughter was what really did it, Robert thought as he pushed off the stool and took a tentative step toward the stove. He liked the guy before, but anyone who could throw down food that smelled like that in his underwear deserved the attention he got. “You always cook like this?”

 

“When I can.” Bradley shrugged, looking down at the stained apron to his bare feet. “I mean, not always in my underpants but uh… comfort, you know? I’m not gonna make pasta in an Armani.”

 

Grinning, Robert shook his head and unbuttoned his dark jacket. “You won’t hear me complaining…” he said, shouldering it off and slinging it over his arm comfortably. “Unless dinner’s late.”

 

“Ten minutes, Mister Downey.” He replied, staring toward the busy pans.

 

“Please, when you’re dressed like that if you don’t call me Robert I’ll feel like I’ve hired an escort.”

 

A beat passed, awkward and lingering, before Bradley laughed and stirred his pesto. “Right, yeah… just having fun.” He turned toward him with a raised eyebrow. “It’ll be on the table in ten, man.”

 

“Sure…” he nodded; “do me a favor, though…”

 

“Of course, anything. Cappuccino? Water?”

 

“Cappuccino,” his grin faded to a somewhat smarmier smirk; “…and leave the suit. I like this.” He gestured up and down, looking him over; “You wear it well.”

 

“Right…” he laughed again, catching Robert’s eyes before turning back to the stove to mutter to himself after Robert left the room. “This is… different. Yeah… all right. Sure. Stripped down dinner with Robert Downey Jr. why the hell not.”

 

***

 

The antipasto was devoured with small moans of pleasure that kept bringing Bradley’s smug grin out of the kitchen to check on him before delivering a pasta primo dripping with rich garlic sauce and then the show piece – along with himself.

 

“Beef braciole with asparagus…” Bradley murmured lovingly as he slid the plate on the table in front of his host; “A variation of my mother’s recipe.”

 

“Jesus…” Robert groaned, loosening his tie; “You’re trying to scare me, aren’t you? I’ve eaten in Italy… you can’t feed me to death… but there are only so many courses you can stuff in me.” His attention was split between the lightly sauced dish and tugging open the bow hanging down the middle of the chef’s back. “Is that beef?”

 

“Lightly pounded…” Bradley replied, pausing a second as he felt the apron come open. Taking the dare, he took it off and tossed it down to the floor. “I’m a big fan of prime, aged cuts.”

 

With an obvious intake of breath followed up with a low groan, Robert shook his head – eyes meeting Bradley’s impossible blues as he flashed a smirk. “That was just a little naughty.”

 

“And the apron thing wasn’t?” He raised an eyebrow, settling into the chair for a quick bite off the much less pretty plate of pasta and braciole he’d dished up for himself.

 

“Touché.”

 

Silent for a long moment save for the murmured approval and soft moans of good food, Bradley shifted uneasily in his chair each time he felt the older man’s eyes on him – watching each bite tucked into his mouth with an increasingly predatory smirk. “Should I be worried?” He asked halfway into his meal, wiping sauce off the corner of his mouth with a linen napkin.

 

“Mmm?” Robert offered a sedate grin, licking his lips and the corner of his well-groomed mustache. “It’s delicious… I’ll have to make sure to blow more of your films out of the water in the future.”

 

“Laugh it up…” Bradley chuckled under his breath, finishing another bite before adding; “And how many Oscars have you been up for?” It was a bitter joke, but they both knew they could take it.

 

“One, same as you… and I picked up the BAFTA for it.” He settled his fork on the edge of the plate, his self-satisfied smirk lingering. “Back when you were still in day school.”

 

 Pushing just a little further, clearly not sure just how far to take himself, Bradley shot back; “Yeah, well… that was before rehab, so…”

 

“Oh, rehab jokes… we’re going there? Because I’ve got a few good ones…”

 

Lowering his head, Bradley pushed away his mostly finished plate. “I’m sorry man, that wasn’t cool.”

 

“You’ve got balls.” Robert shrugged, his eyes darting down to the cut of his guest’s tight black boxer briefs to prove that yes, he was in fact talking about _those_. “I like you. Believe me, if I flinched every time some asshole made a rehab joke I’d be riding the clouds again by now.”

 

“Yeah… well…” Quick to change the subject, obviously simmering in his own awkward sauce, Bradley said; “I’m gonna get dessert. It’ll take just a couple minutes to stuff the cannoli.”

 

Robert snorted, almost holding back before wryly answering; “If you wanted to fool around, all you had to do was ask. No need to handle that beast by yourself.”

 

“Oh… god…” his voice cracked, followed with an awkward, nervous laugh. “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that and get dessert ready.”

 

Of course, the way the younger man blushed and stumbled toward the kitchen in nothing but his underwear said far more than his dismissal of the obvious come on. So, when Bradley returned with a plate of warm, powder sugar-dusted delights it only seemed fitting that his host had stripped down to a pair of high-cut Calvins and was rubbing his full belly. “Oh, you meant actual cannoli?” He smirked.

 

Bradley rolled his eyes, letting out a groan. “Of course I did…”

 

When the plate was set in front of him, Robert let out a low moan – purposefully allowing his voice to drop. “Hope you don’t mind I took the liberty of leveling the playing field.”

 

“Leveling?” Bradley scoffed, noticing his chair had been shifted closer to the head of the table but sitting down anyway. “You, uh… you look great and well, I’m… me.”

 

“Please…” Robert picked up the thickest roll, licking sweet ricotta off the tip; “If you didn’t look good we wouldn’t be trading innuendos over some of the best cooking I’ve had in years.”

 

“Trading innuendos? You… you started it.” He flushed even brighter, looking like he was about to crawl out of his skin.

 

Making a show of biting into the flaky fried pastry, licking his lips and moaning around the sweetness, Robert’s eyelids fluttered as he chewed. It was only after that he murmured; “You were cooking in your briefs. It’s like a reflex.”

 

Bradley grinned, lowering his eyes to the plate. “Yeah, well… you’re kind of _married_ and I’m kind of…”

 

“Don’t tell me you’re not playing that game, not the way you’ve been checking me out.” He laughed, leaning closer; “I know it when I see it.”

 

“No… not that…” he let another awkward chuckle slip. “I’m not comfortable with that.”

 

Robert took a much less theatrical but no less enjoyed bite and picked up his phone, idly tapping out a message. “What, the married thing or the gay thing?”

 

“B… bisexual…” Bradley stammered, “…okay, you know you’re very married this just got really kind of awkward and I should probably go…”

 

“Give me a minute… have a cannoli, they’re fucking amazing.”

 

“Cannolo, actually… is singular… why am I still talking? This has been really fun and everything, but I’ve been sober too many years to play the whole affair thing.” Bradley pushed up out of his chair when a strong hand wrapped around his wrist, pulling him back down. “Or I can hang out here.”

 

“She wants to talk to you.” Robert held out the phone, “Hope you don’t mind I sent pics – she approves, by the way.”

 

“Wait, what…” the phone pushed into his hand buzzed hard, “What the hell…”

 

“If you don’t answer on the third ring she’ll just assume you’re busy already.”

 

“Uh… hi!” He answered on the second buzz, obviously shocked. “You must be, uh… Susan, right?”

 

Robert watched in quiet amusement, finishing the rest of the pastry as his guest’s chest took on a pink flush to match his cheeks and ears as Susan ran him through the routine. When he hung up and offered it back, Robert raised a single eyebrow; “Let me guess, she wants pictures?”

 

His voice a little strained, he replied; “Video… I can’t do video…”

 

“She’s safe,” he nodded, not entirely surprised; “as much as the production company would benefit from stealing a few thousand headlines, she’s bent on keeping me away from scandal.” Both eyebrows arched up and he made a show of licking his fingers; “So, are we doing this thing?”

 

“This thing? I just had your wife tell me I’m free to quote – nail your ass to a wall or take it like a man – unquote.” He gestured toward the plate, watching with wide, worried eyes as Robert started another.

 

“God I love it when she talks dirty.”

 

Processing it, Bradley picked up a pastry – crunching small bites around the edge. “This is… this is really a thing that you’re considering?”

 

“Still feel awkward?”

 

“Yes. Very.”

 

“But interested?”

 

He swallowed hard and then licked powdered sugar off his thumb. “I’m… not sure…”

 

It was time to up the ante, if they were going to play the game he was going to win. Without hesitation, Robert stood up, wiped his mouth and then dropped the napkin on his plate. “Well, if you get a little more sure…” he stripped off his underwear, dropping them in Bradley’s lap; “I’ll be in the _master_ bedroom. I’m sure you can find your way.”

 

***

 

Fifteen minutes later, longer than Robert gave him credit for even with amazing food on the table, he found his way – hesitantly opening the door. “This is really crazy, you know that right?”

 

“Uh-huh.” Robert smirked, rocking his shoulders back against black satin pillows, unabashedly laid out on the bedspread.

 

“I’ve never done anything like this before…” He stepped inside, closing the door behind him.

 

“Usually it involvs illegal substances or certain amounts of alcohol and possibly a previous history… confidentiality forms…”

 

“Cuddling,” he admitted, “friendship usually.”

 

“We’re friends,” Robert’s grin spread, predatory once more. “And I’m told I can be quite cuddly after really hot sex.”

 

Looking down, still clearly awkwardly embracing the situation, Bradley pushed down his shorts and then forced himself to look back up. “We should stop talking if this is going to happen.”

 

“Even better.”

 

Slowly, the awkwardness slipped away – Bradley invited himself to the bed and stretched out on his side, letting Robert guide a hand onto his chest to feel rigid muscle and coarse hair. “Yeah…” he groaned, smiling broadly.

 

“Let me,” Robert murmured, rolling onto his side to brush a kiss against his ear. His fingers stroked down Bradley’s side, lingering on his hip. “God, I’m not your first am I?”

 

“What? No… no, I’ve done it before. I’m just a little… you know…”

 

“Nervous? Man, this was easier when I drinking.” He laughed, tracing down a strong hip bone toward Bradley’s partially hard cock.

 

“Yeah? So was getting arrested.”

 

“There are so many better things you could do with that mouth.”

 

“Oh, you like my mouth?” Bradley licked his lips, finding his comfort zone when Robert’s hand stroked him gently. He pushed back, kissing him hard as he pressed against the solid mass of his chest, guiding him over.

 

“Maybe…” Robert grinned when the kiss broke, digging back up against him to maintain some semblance of control when Bradley straddled his hips. He might be taller, but Robert knew he was stronger and could knock him down any time he pleased – assuming, of course, that he didn’t like the course of action, which was far from true. “I’d like it better wrapped around my cock.”

 

Such a simple statement, yet it was easily enough to put Bradley back in his place – awkward but still rolling with the punches. “I thought you might…” He pushed back experimentally, lowering himself down Robert’s strong thighs before shifting to kneel between his legs.

 

Spreading his thighs wider, offering the invitation, Robert wasn’t disappointed when he felt the brush of Bradley’s lips against his inner thighs – pressing small kisses at first, and then nosing against the tightly cropped curls at the base of his manhood. “Much better…” he murmured, reaching down to stroke over Bradley’s long hair, tucking a curl back between his ears.

 

The gentle kisses gradually warmed to the tip of his tongue tasting him, dragging around the base of his cock and then over his sac before he sucked the thin skin between his lips – teasing his balls with a steady hand that clearly knew its way around the area. It definitely wasn’t his first time. Praising him with a guttural moan, Robert found his phone and managed a quick video as the younger man nosed at his growing hard on.

 

“Jesus…” He groaned, tucking it back under his pillow before letting his fingers trace their way down Bradley’s cheek to get his attention. When he looked up with those impossibly blue eyes, sucking one side gently between his lips, it was sealed. “I am going to fuck you so hard…”

 

His tongue stroking a broad sweep over his sac as he pulled away, grinning even wider than before, Bradley quirked an eyebrow and said; “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”

 

Gripping tight, Robert’s hand closed around a thick handful of brown curls and guided Bradley’s lips back to his cock pressing the tip against them until his mouth opened and took him in eagerly. The guy was smug, and it made Robert’s pulse throb in a way he hadn’t felt in years. “I know it.” He clarified, lifting his hips until the head of his cock brushed against the back of his lover’s throat, drawing it tight for a reflex swallow.

 

Bradley moaned low and loud at the unexpected rush of his hair being tugged hard, pulling him off the other man’s cock with a wet smack of lips. “Uh-huh?” He flushed hot, “You mean now?”

 

“On your knees.” Robert ordered, tugging him to the side before letting him go. He was fast to roll away – not letting himself give in to the easy urge to let Bradley finish the job with that eager mouth. Anyone could suck dick, a few were even true artists at it, but having a guy like Bradley underneath him was far too tempting to let it go that easy.

 

“Sure…” Bradley shrugged one bare shoulder, crawling forward on all fours before letting out an awkward laugh. “You know, there’s this little thing called foreplay…” A hollow snap of a tight latex glove cut his amusement; “What…”

 

“Shut up, Bradley.” He said matter-of-factly, gloving his opposite hand before reaching for an unopened bottle of lube. “Unless you’re allergic to latex. That would be kind of a buzzkill.”

 

“Um… no…” he laughed again, turning his head to stare wide-eyed at the almost mad-scientist look of Robert as he worked the clear gel over white latex fingers; “I’m good.”

 

“Good boy.” Robert closed the lid, tossing it aside. “Head down, shoulders on the pillows. Please.”

 

His back stiffened, but Bradley did as he was told, lowering his shoulders and opening his knees wider at the urging of unfamiliar hands on his inner thighs. “I’m a little worried here…”

 

“You’re in good hands.” He answered reassuringly, leaning in to press a kiss against the soft flesh of his ass, purposefully dragging his beard over the pink skin. “Relax.” Several more kisses brought him down slowly, his muscles easing until he felt safe to drag his slick fingers over the cleft. It was a simple enough process, one hand stroking Bradley’s shaved balls as his thumb dragged over the tight opening. “There you go…”

 

Bradley laughed under his breath, burying his face in the cool satin to let out a moan at the delicate sensation. “God…”

 

“Shh…” Robert hissed between clenched teeth, circling with his thumb until Bradley pushed back against it – sliding easily inside him. “Needy boy, aren’t you?”

 

“Uh-huh…” he whined into the pillows, eyes closed tight. “Feels good.”

 

“It does.” He squeezed gently with his broad palm, cradling his sac as he withdrew his thumb and replaced it with a long stroke of his middle finger. “Even better?” Robert grinned, working the digit slowly in and out, searching for the sweet spot.

 

“God yes…” Bradley moaned, lifting his ass higher when his body trembled at the tender push inside him; “Fuck yes.”

 

“There we are…” he laughed, withdrawing to add a second finger – stretching him the slightest bit wider with each increasingly quick stroke. He could feel his partner’s heat building and slid from his balls to grasp the base of his cock, his member pushing back hard and thick at the suggestion of more to come. “I do love it when they’re eager…” he muttered under his breath, biting into his lower lip when Bradley bucked back against him even harder.

 

“Please…” he groaned, shuddering as his body reacted to the tease. When Robert’s fingers closed fully around cock and coupled the milking strokes. “More?”

 

“More?” It was enough to draw a curious eyebrow, but Robert was curious to see just how far he’d go. Adding another thick digit, he took a hissing breath at the image laid out in front of him wishing he’d thought ahead with that camera after all. “Christ… you’re very… very…” Robert let out a guttural groan, pressing the slightest bit harder.

 

“Uh-huh…” Bradley moaned even louder, daring to turn just enough to see the look on his face – unable to contain his grin. “You gonna fuck me or just get me off?”

 

“Oooh, just wait…” he replied pushing his fingers faster inside him.

 

The whine that caught in Bradley’s throat was almost as exquisite as the wetness that spread across his fingers as he danced close to the edge. “Kinky little bastard…” he moaned, hands knotting in the sheets.

 

Slowing himself, taking the heat off his partner a second, Robert pulled away and stripped off his gloves – tossing them on the floor beside the bed. He leaned over Bradley’s back – brushing a sloppy kiss on his shoulder before snatching a condom off the nightstand. “The best kind.”

 

Pushing up against the weight of his partner, clearly aching for more, Bradley begged; “You’re killing me… I’m gonna die, just a little FYI here…”

 

“Nobody’s died on my watch yet,” he laughed, kissing his shoulder again before biting down to elicit another hard moan. “Tell me what you want.”

 

“You know what I want…”

 

“Oh, don’t clam up on me now Brad…” he purred against the younger man’s ear, letting his mustache linger on the sensitive skin. Subtly, he slid his hand under the pillow and retrieved his phone – calling up the camera with a swipe of his thumb before leaving it beside Bradley’s head. “Tell her what you want…” He gripped his long hair at the nape of his neck, tugging his head up with a rough twist of the wrist; “…and smile for the camera.”

 

“Oh god…” he groaned, shuddering hard; “…please…” he grinned wide, staring straight at his own face on the small screen. “Please fuck me. Please… hard… fast…”

 

“Sure you want that?” He chuckled, letting go of his hair to push back and roll on the rubber.

 

Bradley closed his eyes; “Yes… please. Jesus, Robert…”

 

He was more than happy to give in, guiding his cock against the stretched opening and filling him with a fast thrust – holding tight at the curve of his hips for a long moment. “Right there,” he growled, settling into a rough pace.

 

Taking every thrust with a low grunt, Bradley arched eagerly against him. “Yeah…” he moaned, pushing up on both hands. “Harder!”

 

Robert pushed himself closer, forcing his full weight against him and wrapping an arm around his waist for even more leverage. He wasn’t used to a guy that could match him readily and take anything he could dish out, so he took what he could – thrusting hard and fast against his solid thighs. Pressing kisses across his broad shoulders, he gripped tighter at Bradley’s hip as though he might somehow slip away.

 

He couldn’t last long, neither of them could, and when his body shook Bradley let himself back down on the pillows – stroking himself hard and fast.

 

“Come on baby, come on…” Robert moaned, biting his shoulder again hard enough to bruise – something to remember the night by if the food wasn’t enough. “You know you want to.”

 

“Yes…” Bradley hissed, tight muscles bearing down as he came over the top of his fist – continuing the rough strokes. “Fuck… yes…”

 

Growling, panting, Robert took his time tapering off until he could only grind his hips against Bradley’s ass, digging against him. “You like that?” He moaned, smacking his hip hard.

 

“God yes…” Bradley sighed, lowering himself to the mattress with Robert’s weight still on top of him. “Jesus… I… am I bleeding?” He laughed, trembling fingers tracing the shallow teeth marks on his shoulder.

 

“Nah, you’re all right…” he grinned, kissing the mark. “You’re good.”

 

“I’m great.”

 

Laughing under his breath, Robert picked up the phone – stopping the video before running it back a minute; “You have got to see this…”

 

“Oh god… you didn’t…”

 

“You did.” Robert rolled off him, offering him the phone; “Christ even sweating and drooling on yourself you’re photogenic.”

 

“I do look good…” He groaned again, curling back against him with an arm loosely wrapped over his waist.

 

A quiet moment passed and Robert murmured; “Still taught you some moves, though.”

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: This is a work of fictional parody in no way intended to infringe upon the rights of any individual or corporate entity. Any and all characters or celebrity personae belong to their rightful owners. Absolutely no money has or will be gained from this work. Please do not publicly repost or redistribute without letting me know first. Transformative or derivative works welcome, but drop me a note about it!


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